A/N: Certain elements were inspired by these two moments.

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Taeyeon once again finds herself in the kitchen on a sleepless night, although this time she’s alone. She had only meant to get a drink, but she finds herself sitting at the table nursing her cooling milk, her mind drifting to a familiar place: the past.

She remembers another night like this, when she couldn’t fall asleep and had come seeking a drink to chase off her insomnia (although in retrospect, perhaps she should have gone for something stronger than milk), and she had been startled by the sight of Jessica. Granted, their conversation hadn’t been the most pleasant, but she catches herself glancing toward the hallway now, hoping for a flash of tawny hair…

No, she shouldn’t be hoping to see Jessica. Jessica’s been so busy lately, helping Taeyeon with her English as well as working on her own performance, and she loves sleep more than the rest of them put together. Taeyeon knows that Jessica would happily sleep twelve hours per day if she was allowed to, but given their lifestyle, they often don’t even get that amount of sleep in three days. Compared to all the other things they’ve given up, sleep almost seems insignificant.

Taeyeon closes her eyes and remembers herself at fifteen, stepping into a recording booth, fraught with nerves under many pairs of watchful eyes and ears; remembers herself at eighteen, giving a speech before their debut stage while she thought her heart would leap out of her chest; remembers herself at twenty, turning away to cry while her members sought solace in each other’s arms.

She exhales, halfway to a sigh, pillowing her cheek on her hand as she stares out aimlessly into the darkness. Maybe there’s something about the kitchen. It’s far from the first time she’s sat here thinking, especially at night, with only a dim light and her own thoughts for company. Her own brooding, critical thoughts. Sometimes she wonders why she’s so negative, so hard on herself, so quick to pick out the tiniest fault and focus on it until she could see nothing else.

This time, the breath that she lets out is definitely a sigh, so heavy that she almost expects it to be visible, to see her breath dissipating in the air. She’s grateful that the other girls aren’t here, that she can hold on to her solitude and wrap it around herself like a blanket and stay cocooned within. She’s grateful to be alone; she wants it, craves it, and yet, she hates it. She knows that it makes no sense, but that’s the way she is, the way she’s always been.

She almost jumps out of her chair when she sees a figure approaching her, and then the lights are on and she’s looking into a tired face.

“Taengoo, what are you doing up?” Sunkyu asks through a yawn.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Taeyeon replies, fighting down a wave of disappointment.

Sunkyu looks concerned, her face lined with sleep, her eyes bleary.

“Did I wake you up?” Taeyeon asks. She has no idea how she could have, given that she hasn’t been doing anything except sitting and thinking, but she doesn’t know what Sunkyu would be doing up otherwise.

“Oh, no,” Sunkyu says dismissively. “I had a weird dream.”

Taeyeon frowns. “A nightmare?”

“No, I had a dream that I was late for a performance, so I astral projected myself to you guys, and for some reason my uncle was there and he needed to talk to me about something important, but there was no time and I needed to go back for my body but I didn’t really know how…”

Taeyeon stares at her. “Wow,” she says after a moment. “That’s…a very interesting dream.”

“I know, right?” Sunkyu says airily. “Anyway, I woke up just as I had an epiphany about what to do, which was a real shame.”

“Yes,” Taeyeon agrees solemnly. “That does sound like a shame.”

Sunkyu smiles, her eyes flickering to Taeyeon’s cup. “Having a nightcap?” she asks lightly.

“Sure, if milk counts.”

“I didn’t know you still had trouble sleeping.”

“I sleep fine,” she says honestly. “It’s just tonight. I had a nap earlier, that’s probably why I can’t sleep now.”

“Go to bed, Taengoo,” Sunkyu says softly.

“I will after I finish this,” Taeyeon says, raising her cup to her lips. “You should go back to bed. Maybe you’ll continue your dream and make it to the performance.”

The corners of Sunkyu’s mouth curve up, but she doesn’t look particularly amused or happy. “Taeyeon, you know that – we’re here for you, you know. All of us.”

Her eyebrows draw together. “Yes, I know that.”

Sunkyu looks very serious and not the slightest bit sleepy now. “What were you thinking about just now? What do you think about when you shut yourself away like that?”

“I wasn’t shutting myself away—”

Sunkyu clicks her tongue, making a noise of impatience. “Taeyeon, come on. This is me.”

Taeyeon draws in a silent breath, and then lets it go. “I was thinking about…being alone.”

“Being alone?”

“Yeah.”

Sunkyu is looking at her with an inscrutable expression. “You know,” she says conversationally, “I really wish I understood you better sometimes.”

Taeyeon drops her eyes. “That makes two of us.”

“Taengoo.” She feels something gently knock against her shoulder, probably Sunkyu’s. “How are things between you and Jessica?”

She looks up, slightly disconcerted at the sudden change in topic. “Fine,” she says automatically, one of her default replies to how are you. But Sunkyu didn’t ask how are you, she asked how are you and Jessica, and… Taeyeon finds lifting, her voice softening. “Good. She’s—we’re—it’s been good.”

Sunkyu blinks, looking bemused by all the pronouns Taeyeon went through. Then she smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Taeyeon says. “She…” Once again, she stops at that word.

“She makes you happy, doesn’t she?”

“I think…we make each other happy.”

Sunkyu’s smile widens. “So, it wasn’t that complicated after all, was it?”

“It wasn’t exactly easy.”

“Well, I’ve never known you to look for the easy way out.”

“No,” Taeyeon says quietly. “Even if there were a million complications, even if—” She breaks off, looking down at her cup, noticing that a film has formed over the remnants of the milk. She doesn’t feel like finishing it, but she does feel like returning to her bed. She has a feeling that she’ll sleep well now. “Anyway, she’s worth it.”

Sunkyu doesn’t ask what ‘it’ is, but Taeyeon thinks that she has a good idea anyway.

“Taengoo, do you want to go for barbecue tonight?” Sooyoung asks distractedly, flipping through channels on the TV so fast her thumb is practically a blur. There’s no way she can actually be watching it.

“Go out? Is it a special occasion?”

Yoona grins from beside Sooyoung. “Doesn’t celebrating your relationship with Sica unnie count as a special occasion?”

Taeyeon narrows her eyes. “You two just want me to buy you meat, don’t you?”

“Not just,” Sooyoung says. “I also want patbingsu.”

Taeyeon only half-stifles her laugh. Yoona brightens. “I wasn’t thinking of patbingsu, but now that you mentioned it, I want some too!”

“It’s winter,” Taeyeon points out.

“So?” Yoona and Sooyoung say at the same time.

“Patbingsu isn’t restricted by season, unnie,” Yoona says.

“Don’t mind her, Yoona,” Sooyoung says sagely. “She’s an ahjumma; she doesn’t understand.”

Taeyeon rolls her eyes. “This ahjumma doesn’t feel like going out tonight.”

Sooyoung pouts. “But I want barbecue.”

“And patbingsu,” Yoona chimes in.

“I was thinking,” Taeyeon says slowly, “that I would make japchae.”

“You know how to make japchae?” Sooyoung asks. “I thought kimchi fried rice was the extent of your cooking abilities.”

“I make excellent kimchi fried rice,” Taeyeon says in an affronted tone.

“You do, unnie,” Yoona agrees. “You just don’t—make a lot of other things.”

That’s true. She can hold her own with a spatula, but she’s not the best cook out there.

“My mom makes really good japchae,” she explains, “and I thought that I would give it a try tonight. Unless you guys really don’t want to eat in…”

Yoona and Sooyoung exchange a look.

“I don’t have any problems with it,” Yoona says with a smile. “I’ll support your decision.”

Sooyoung nods. “If that’s what you want, go for it.”

Taeyeon has a feeling that they’re not talking about dinner choices anymore. She sweeps her tongue over her lips, but they’re still rather dry. She’s not nervous – it’s Sooyoung and Yoona, after all – she’s just not exactly eager. She’s never been good at knowing what to say, and this time isn’t an exception.

“So,” she starts off. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you guys about this.”

“About japchae?” Sooyoung asks lightly.

Taeyeon’s laugh sounds weak to her own ears. “The first letter is the same.”

“We’re all ears, unnie,” Yoona says gently. “Say what you want to say.”

“Well, like I told you, Jessica and I are…you know.” Taeyeon feels incredibly awkward, and she has to take a moment to formulate her next words. Yoona and Sooyoung don’t press her, just look at her with warm, encouraging eyes. “I know I kind of shoved the news in your faces, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it. Really okay, and not just saying it to make me feel better.”

“Why wouldn’t we be okay with it?” Yoona asks. “Do you think we’re that close-minded?”

“No, it’s just – I mean, I was kind of surprised when you told me about your boyfriends, and Jessica is…”

“We were surprised,” Sooyoung says, “but we weren’t—of course we’re okay with it, Taengoo. We’re more than okay with it. With you two. We’re happy for you.”

“I just want to make sure—” Taeyeon trails off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

“I know I made some jokes about it,” Sooyoung says, looking a little worried. “I thought… I was just joking, you know. I wasn’t making fun of you two. Well, not making fun in a bad way – I was just playing around.”

“I know that,” Taeyeon says. Of course she does. Sooyoung may be a big jokester, but she’s also one of the kindest, most caring people Taeyeon knows. She knows that Sooyoung would never be purposefully cruel. “I thought what you said was funny.”

“Don’t inflate her head anymore,” Yoona says. “She already thinks she’s the most hilarious person in the world.”

“That’s because I am,” Sooyoung says with great dignity.

“Sure you are,” Yoona says indulgently. She turns to Taeyeon. “Unnie, do you remember what you told us right before our debut stage?”

Taeyeon wonders why they keep using her words against her. Okay, not against her, but—repeating them at her, like they’re full of great wisdom or something.

“That was six years ago.”

“I still remember,” Sooyoung says quietly.

“You said,” Yoona says, slowly but clearly, “that we’re all in this together. And we are. You’re right, it’s been six years, and if anything’s changed, it’s just that we’re even closer. You don’t have to – to worry about our reactions like we’re going to turn against you. We’re with you, unnie, with you and Jessica unnie, not against you.”

Taeyeon nods, her tongue heavy, thick. She wants to tell Yoona that she appreciates it, she appreciates them, but she finds herself incapable of speech.

“We’re not your coworkers, Taengoo,” Sooyoung says. “We’re a family. Aren’t we?”

She still hasn’t recovered her voice yet, so she just inclines her head: a single, solemn nod. She knows they don’t need her to answer – they know what her answer is – but she gives it to them anyway. Not an answer, the answer. Because there is only one answer to that question. Is she lucky to have them? Is she grateful for them? Is she so full of love for them she fears she will burst? There is only one answer to all those questions.

“I’m looking forward to your japchae,” Yoona says brightly.

“I am too,” Sooyoung says, patting her stomach. “Make sure you give me extra servings.”

Taeyeon laughs and this one doesn’t sound weak at all. It’s not a weakness to need people, she thinks, and it’s especially not a weakness to need them. They’ve always made her stronger.

She’s looking through the kitchen, checking if they have all the ingredients for japchae, when Yuri walks in, looking fresh from dance practice.

“Hey, Taengoo,” Yuri says cheerfully.

“Hey, Yul.”

“You look kind of tired. Didn’t sleep well?”

“I couldn’t fall asleep for a while, but I’m fine now.” Taeyeon really is. Something about that talk with Sooyoung and Yoona has energized her, better than coffee, better than tea. Of course, stimulants could never compare to her girls.

“Hmm, ‘fine’. Your favourite word.”

Taeyeon smiles. “I’m better than fine, actually. I’m good.”

“Yeah?” Yuri scrutinizes her, seeming satisfied as she turns to the fridge. “You look good.”

“Thanks. The kitchen lighting does wonders for my complexion.”

Yuri laughs, taking out a water bottle from the fridge. “You know what I mean. You really do look good.”

“Thanks,” Taeyeon repeats, with a different inflection. “You look—sweaty.”

Yuri tosses her hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve been practicing a lot with Fany. She’s really struggling with some parts of the choreography, so we’ve been going over them for hours.”

Taeyeon has seen them practice Ma Boy before, and she thought that Tiffany looked fine. She didn’t seem to be ‘really struggling’ at all. Taeyeon takes a closer look at Yuri, trying to look for traces of—she isn’t sure—sadness, hurt, false cheer, whatnot.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Yuri asks, sounding amused.

Taeyeon clears . “How are you?”

“I’m kind of tired, but otherwise I’m fine.” Yuri uncaps her water bottle and gulps down half its contents in one go. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier. I’m really happy for you and Jessica. She’s liked you for a long time, you know.”

Taeyeon swallows. “I know.”

Yuri presses the water bottle against her forehead like a cold compress. “Have you seen her solo? I told her I’d help her with the dance, but she won’t let me see it.”

“She won’t let me either.”

“She’s so weird.” Yuri takes another long drink. “Then again, you are too, so you’re perfect for each other.”

“Your logic makes so much sense.”

Yuri grins. “I know, right?”

“What about you?” Taeyeon asks casually. “Anyone weird enough to catch your eye?”

Yuri shrugs with a smile. “I’m not really looking for anyone right now.”

Not looking for, or not looking at, Taeyeon wonders. Yuri seems to have her eyes set on one person. She probably doesn’t even see other people.

“If you are, you’ll let me know, right?”

“Yes, leader unnie,” Yuri says with a quirk of her lips.

“I’m not asking as your leader. I’m asking as your friend.”

Yuri gives a small but genuine smile. “I’ll tell you if I find someone.” She wags her finger at Taeyeon. “Although you didn’t tell me about you and Jessica.”

“I told you pretty much right away.”

“You and I must have different definitions of right away.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Taeyeon says quietly, which is true enough. “Jessica and I – it took us a lot to get here, you know? I wanted to be sure.”

Yuri’s eyes soften. “And are you sure now?”

Taeyeon thinks of gauze and crayons, nicknames and pillows, heartbeats.

“I am.”

“What are you making?” Jessica asks, approaching the kitchen counter.

“Japchae,” Taeyeon replies, shifting the chopped green onion from the cutting board to a plate. She moves onto the carrots, which she always find hard to finely slice. Jessica keeps saying they should get some fancy peeler thing – Taeyeon never remembers what it’s called, just that it starts with j – but given Jessica’s ineptitude in the kitchen, nobody really pays her cooking advice any attention.

Jessica brightens. “I like japchae.”

“Everyone does, so—” Taeyeon’s bangs keeps falling into her eyes and her hands are busy, so she’s resorting to head tosses, which aren’t working very well. Jessica reaches up and brushes her bangs away from her forehead. Taeyeon gives her a grateful smile.

“Do you need any help?” Jessica asks.

“Yeah, why don’t you peel and slice those cucumbers over there?” Taeyeon almost bursts out laughing at the look on Jessica’s face. “I’m just kidding. Nobody puts cucumbers in japchae.”

Jessica’s expression is somewhere between a frown and a pout. “You’re not funny.”

“What are you talking about, I’m hilarious.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

Taeyeon decides to take a break from carrots and moves onto some onions. Those are much easier to chop. “Don’t worry,” she tells Jessica. “Even if the recipe specifically called for cucumbers, I wouldn’t put any in.” She doesn’t look up but she can tell, somehow, that Jessica’s smiling.

“I wish,” Jessica starts haltingly. “I wish we could have a duet.”

Taeyeon raises her head. “Like Tiffany and Yuri?”

“Like—like before.” Jessica’s eyes look heavy with memories. “Way before, right after we debuted.”

“Like Want and Resent?” It’s always been one of her favourite covers; she loved the song and originally she wanted to sing it as a solo, but afterwards she realized that singing it with Jessica added something else to the song, something she couldn’t have achieved by herself.

“Hmm. That’s one of my favourites.”

“Me too.”

“Not because I sang it with you,” Jessica says quickly. “It’s just—a great song.”

“Okay,” Taeyeon says, amused. “I wasn’t thinking that, but okay.”

Jessica looks embarrassed, which is an endearing look on her, but she meets Taeyeon’s eyes evenly. “I like singing with you.”

Taeyeon clears . “Me too,” she repeats, returning to slicing onions. Her hand feels slick on the handle of the knife and she has to wipe it on her pants. She wouldn’t want to slip and cut herself.

“Jooyoung oppa told me that they considered having you perform Ma Boy with Yul.”

“Did they?” Taeyeon asks absently.

“They knew that the Sistar fans would go crazy comparing you and Hyorin though, so they dropped the idea.”

“I think Fany will do a great job.”

“I think so too.” There’s a pause. She waits for Jessica to speak and has a feeling that she isn’t going to like what she says next. “Would you rather have it be the two of you?”

Taeyeon frowns. “Me and Yuri?”

“You and Tiffany.”

“That makes no sense,” Taeyeon says lightly. “Sistar19 is supposed to be a vocal and a rapper. Tiffany and I are both vocals.”

“She can do the rap. She has the voice for it. Besides, Yuri isn’t really a rapper anyway. We don’t even have raps in our songs.”

Taeyeon has to repress a sigh. She wonders when Jessica is going to get over this, when she’s going to believe that Taeyeon wants her and only her.

“I already had a duet with Fany in our last album.”

Jessica’s expression doesn’t change. “That was a nice song.”

“It is,” Taeyeon agrees. “Next time, they should give us a song. We are the main vocals, after all.”

“That’s right,” Jessica says after a beat. “The main vocals.”

Taeyeon sighs, running a hand blearily over her face, pushing her hair away from her eyes. She feels them stinging abruptly and mentally curses herself for being so stupid.

“Taeyeon?” Jessica sounds worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I—” Taeyeon’s eyes are tearing relentlessly now, and she turns on the tap to splash cold water over her face. “I’ll be fine,” she says, mumbled over the rush of water.

Well, she thinks wryly as she emerges from the icy spray, at least she doesn’t have to worry about her hair getting in the way anymore. It’s so wet that it’s plastered to her face and away from her eyes. Jessica is staring at her with her eyebrows drawn close together, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Onions.” Taeyeon gestures to her eyes. “I was being dumb.”

Jessica releases her lip. “So was I,” she says quietly. “Sorry.”

“Tiffany is my best friend. That’s it.”

“I know.”

“You’d better.” Taeyeon gives a teasing smile. “Don’t make me cry over it again.”

Jessica rolls her eyes, but she returns the smile. “Here.” She slides the cutting board towards Taeyeon’s side of the counter and takes the knife. “I’ll cut the rest.”

“It’s fine, I can do it. A few tears never hurt anybody.”

“I want to help you,” Jessica insists, and Taeyeon relents.

“I’ll go prepare the noodles then.”

“Okay.”

Taeyeon tiptoes to take out a large bowl from the cabinet. “Thanks, Sica.”

Jessica smiles. “We’re a team, right?”

Taeyeon touches her arm. “I like singing with you too,” she says softly. “I want a duet with you, not just because we’re the main vocals, but because…” She trails off with an exhale. “I like singing with you too,” she repeats.

Jessica’s smile turns softer at the corners, smaller, really, although it’s bright enough to light up the kitchen. “Taeyeon,” she says, tender, fond, and Taeyeon thinks that she understands what Jessica meant earlier, about saying her name in a different way. Certainly nobody else says her name the way Jessica does, nobody else puts so much into it.

“Jessica.” Taeyeon’s tongue curls around Jessica’s name, reluctant to relinquish it. “Come on, let’s work on the japchae.”

“Okay.”

“Are you going to be okay with the onions?”

“A few tears won’t hurt anybody.”

“I don’t want to see you cry,” Taeyeon says impulsively. “Not even a few tears.”

Jessica looks at her, just looks, and doesn’t move, but Taeyeon can tell she’s smiling. “Don’t worry, I cry easily but not when it comes to onions.”

“How about when it comes to cucumbers?”

Jessica sticks out her tongue. “Go work on your noodles.”

Taeyeon laughs and reaches for a pair of chopsticks, and she and Jessica continue cooking, laughing, talking together, side by side.